Then Came the End
by Meagan Brooke
Summary: Chapter 17 of Blood Promise from Dimitri's POV. What was Dimitri thinking when Rose had her first major ghost incident on the plane? Was he worried? Or was he glad that he'd found another excuse not to love her?


**Hey guys. So, this starts on chapter 17 of Shadow Kiss; it's Rose's first big ghost incident from Dimitri's POV. Enjoy! And review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own VA or any of its characters or any of the dialogue; however, everything Dimitri is feeling is from me! 3**

When we reached the runway, Lissa ran off to be with Ozera, leaving me completely alone with Rose. She turned to study my face; I gave nothing away, as always.

"Are you still thinking about what Rhonda said? That woman's a total scam!" Actually, I was thinking about it. _You will lose what you value the most._ She might as well have said _You will lose Rose_. Rose herself might not know that my world revolved around her, but I certainly knew it, and so did anyone who bothered to look close enough. My question was: How will I lose her? Will she get tired of me? Or something worse than that? But the question that I was really dying to know: _When_ will I lose her?

"Why do you say that?" I asked. I stopped walking when we were at least hearing's distance from the others; I didn't want anything that may come out of my mouth to be overheard. I just couldn't seem to control my tongue around this girl. A burst of wind slapped us in the face, throwing her hair back behind her shoulders and making her slightly squint her eyes. She looked beautiful—like an angel.

She turned looked at me like I had asked her to turn into a Strigoi. "Because she didn't tell us anything! You should have heard my future. It was, like, one sentence stating the obvious. Lissa had a better fortune," she admitted, "but it wasn't really anything that profound. Rhonda said she'd be a great leader. I mean, seriously, how hard is that to figure out?" I smiled; same old Rose, always taking things literally and never looking deeper than the surface. I wanted to ask her what Rhonda had told her, but I knew it would just get her started again.

"Would you be a believer if she'd given you a more interesting reading?" I asked, still smiling.

"Maybe if it was good," she said, and I laughed. She looked surprised, probably because I always tried so hard to be serious around her. Her brow furrowed.

"But you're taking it seriously. Why? You really believe in that kind of stuff?"

"It's not so much that I believe… or that I don't believe." I had on a black knitted cap over my head today. I pulled it down to cover my ears. "I just respect people like her. They have access to knowledge other people don't." I said. I thought about Rose, how she always seemed to know things that other kids her age didn't. That was part of what I liked about her; she was fearless. She didn't let people run over her. I admired her, but I would never admit it.

"She's not a spirit user, though, so I'm not really sure where she's getting this knowledge. I still think she's a con artist."

"She's a _vrăjitoare_, actually."

"A…" she stopped, not daring to try and pronounce the word that came so easily to my tongue. "A what? Is that Russian?"

"Romanian. It means… well, there's no real translation. 'Witch' is close, but that's not right. Their idea of a witch isn't the same as an American's." I explained. She looked like she couldn't believe her ears. She probably had never expected to have a conversation about the supernatural with me, of all people. I tried very hard to stay solid and uninterested around her. I failed regularly.

"My grandmother was like Rhonda," I said. "That is, she practiced the same kind of arts. Personality-wise, they're very different." She looked stunned.

"Your grandmother was a… v-whatever?"

"It's called something else in Russian, but yes, same meaning. She used to read cards and give advice too. It was how she made her living."

"Was she right? In her predictions?"

"Sometimes. Don't look at me like that." She was staring at me like I was crazy.

"Like what?" her expression turned to one of confusion.

"You've got this look on your face that says you think I'm delusional, but you're too nice to say anything."

She laughed. "Delusional's kind of harsh. I'm just surprised, that's all. I never expected you to buy into this stuff."

"Well, I grew up with it, so it doesn't seem that strange to me. And like I said, I'm not sure I buy into it 100 percent." Ivashkov was whining loudly about us not being able to board the plane yet.

"I never thought of you as having a grandmother, either," she said. "I mean, obviously, you'd have to. But still… it's just weird to think about growing up with one." It was understandable, seeing as how she grew up with no parental interference whatsoever. "Was it weird having a witch grandma? Scary? Was she always, like, threatening to cast spells if you were bad?" I stifled a laugh.

"Most of the time she just threatened to send me to my room."

She smiled wistfully. "That doesn't sound too scary to me."

I laughed. "That's because you haven't met her."

"Is she still alive?"

I nodded. "It'll take more than old age to kill her off. She's tough. She was actually a guardian for a while."

"Really? So she gave it up to become a—uh, to stay with her kids?"

"She has very strong ideas about family—ideas that probably sound kind of sexist to you. She believes all dhampirs should train and put in time as guardians, but that the women should eventually return home to raise their children together."

"But not the men?"

"No," I said wryly. "She thinks men still need to stay out there and kill Strigoi.

"Wow," was all she said then. She paused for a moment, and then spoke again: "you were the one who had to go. The women in your family kicked you out."

I laughed again. "Hardly. My mother would take me back in a second if I wanted to come home." Then we had to board the plane.

Vasilisa started talking as soon as we were all seated. She told everyone how Rose had been called in to see the queen; Rose didn't seem too happy about it, and I could tell that that wasn't really what had happened between her and the queen. Then she told us about the offer to live at the court and go to college at Lehigh. "I still can't believe it," she mused, "It sounds too good to be true."

Ivashkov downed a glass of whisky. The conversation continued on like that for a while, and I stopped listening. That is, until Rose cussed, "Son of a *itch," and put her hand on her forehead.

"You're sick again?" Vasilisa asked. She was worried, and so was I. Rose nodded. I thought again about what Rhonda had said.

"Have you always had trouble flying?" Ivashkov asked.

"Never," Rose said. "Damn it, I don't want to go through this again." She looked like she was in dreadful pain, wincing every few seconds and trying not to look out the windows. She shut her eyes, and hours went by. It turned out that an ice storm had just blown through our area, so the plane had to land at Martinville Regional to get fuel and wait for the okay from St. Vladimir's.

Rose looked like she felt a bit better then, but when we landed, her face took on a green cast. She started breathing hard and fast, looking around as if there were spiders crawling all over everything. I rose from my seat and went to sit beside her, asking her if she was ok. She either didn't hear me, or she just didn't want to answer. Everyone knew something was wrong by then, and she just kept ignoring everyone and everything, just kept staring at the wall until whatever she was seeing was too much for her.

Then she started screaming. And kept screaming. I grabbed her by the shoulders, and she covered her mouth with her hands. "Make them go away!" she yelled. I had no idea what she was talking about, but I was sure that it wasn't good. I didn't see anything. She tried to stand, but I pushed her back into her seat, and she blacked out.

Was this what Rhonda had meant? Something was wrong with Rose, and that's how I will lose her? I clenched my fists. No. I won't let this happen—not to her, not to us. I loved her, more than anything. No amount of sickness or mental illness could take her away from me. She was mine, and I'd be *amned if anything was going to take her away from me.


End file.
